


The Admiration Of A God

by phantomthief_fee



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Asexual Character, Demigods, Genderfluid Character, References to Norse Religion & Lore, This turned into shameless fluff near the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-06 15:26:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17347703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomthief_fee/pseuds/phantomthief_fee
Summary: Bertrum never expected to meet a god of the Norse pantheon, much less have one admire him





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Control_Room](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Control_Room/gifts).



> The portrayal of Hel that's featured in this story is the one I use in my own stories. This is just my version.

So, [@insane-control-room](https://tmblr.co/mJlb-vW43NaJNACvfy09WfA) has amazing characters and art, and I find their interpretation of Bertrum especially interesting. I’m very into mythology. And I was talking with Control recently and learned Bertrum’s transition was a fairly recent thing. So I wanted to write something with it

* * *

 

Bertram knew very little about the Norse pantheon. He had had virtually no contact with them in all his many years of existence, and that was the way he’d expected it to stay. After all, the Norse deities moved in a separated circle and were all busy with their own lives and problems. Most of them probably weren't even interested in what went on in the Greek pantheon. However, one day, when he showed up to work, one of them was waiting for him. He entered his work area to find a woman seated at the desk he used for drawing up plans. 

She looked young, maybe 20 at the very most. Upon first glance, he thought perhaps she was an ordinary person. But then he looked closer. Although she was dressed in ordinary clothing, a simple black dress and brown boots, there was something distinctly inhuman about her. Her hair was black, so dark it seemed to swallow up all light. Her skin was pale, as though she’d never been in the sun before. The eyes that wandered about were a shade of green that was most definitely not found in nature. For a moment, he thought she was perhaps from Olympus. But...No. Her presence was unfamiliar to him. Finally, the woman seemed to notice him, standing up and brushing her dress off. 

“I hope you don’t mind my using your desk.” She said, folding her hands in front of her. “I wasn’t sure how long I would be waiting, and Mr. Drew informed me that I should come here to see you.”

“It’s...fine.” Bertram edged over to his desk. “Is there something I can do for you?”

“No.” The woman remained standing, watching him. “I didn’t come because I needed something from you. I came because I wished to see you.” She was honestly a little unsettling if he was being honest. She didn’t seem to blink. 

“I see.” He said slowly. His instinct was to look anywhere but at the woman, but he forced himself to maintain eye contact with her. Despite her stoic expression, he could see warmth and understanding in her eyes. That was probably a good sign. 

“Forgive me, I haven’t introduced myself.” The woman smiled ever so slightly. “You must be rather confused. My name is Hel. I’m the Norse goddess of death, a colleague of your uncle, Hades.” She held out her hand. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Bertram tentatively reached out and shook her hand. If she was a colleague of his uncle’s then perhaps he could trust her. Still, he couldn’t fathom why a goddess of death would want to see him.

“You as well, Mr. Piedmont.” She nodded her head in a gesture of respect. After a moment, they both withdrew their hands. 

“You said you came to see me,” Bertram said, sitting down at his desk. “May I ask why? I’m sure you have duties you have to attend to.” 

“I do have duties, yes,” Hel admitted, sitting as well. “But there was a lull and I thought now was a good a time as any to come.”

“But why?”

“I...” Hel’s eyes lowered to where her hands laid in her lap. “I wanted to say that I admire you.” Bertram just stared at her. He was quite certain he had heard her incorrectly.

“Pardon?” 

“I admire you,” Hel repeated, looking up to meet his eyes. 

“I’m...not entirely sure where this came from.” Bertram cleared his throat, beginning to shuffle some papers on his desk. “I’m quite certain we’ve never met. Surely, I’ve done nothing notable enough to draw your attention.”

“I’ve heard about you from Hades. He talks fondly of you.” Hel said. She paused, her cheeks beginning to turn pink. “I realize it might have been a bit...rude of me to show up like this. You’re right, we’ve never met.” She began to play with her hair. “But...I heard about your transition from Hades and I...” She laughed quietly. “I couldn’t help but admire you for that. For putting your own happiness first. For defying your role. I could never be that strong.”

“You think I’m...strong?” Bertram asked, feeling his own cheeks begin to heat up. He paused in shuffling the papers, placing them down.

“Incredibly so.” Hel smiled softly. “There are so few deities who have the strength to do what you have.” Bertram just stared at her. 

“I’m sorry.” She laughed nervously. “Have I gone too far? I don’t interact with many people outside of my wards. Have I...offended...” She trailed off when she saw Bertram’s expression change. He looked as though he was trying to hold back tears. 

“Are you alright?” Hel’s voice was quiet. Her first instinct was to reach out and try to comfort him with her touch. It was what she always did when someone in her family or one of her wards was upset. But she thought better of it. It would have been terribly rude to touch Bertram in such a familiar way.

“I’m...I’m fine.” Bertram cleared his throat, trying to compose himself. “I’m fine. There’s no need for you to be concerned.”

“Very well. If you say so.”

They lapsed into silence for a moment or two before Bertram spoke once again. 

“...Thank you.” He whispered. 

“For what?”

“I appreciate your admiration.” Bertram allowed himself to smile. “I...I would be lying if I said that this has been easy. I appreciate that you find what I did to be...positive. Not everyone feels that way.”

“Change can be difficult for many people to process,” Hel said. “Granted, my experience with others rejecting change comes from people begging for me to return their deceased loved ones. Still, I think as long as you’re happy, that’s what matters.”

“I appreciate that you think that way.”

Hel leaned on the desk. “Do you enjoy working here?”

“I...I do.” Bertram said after a moment of thought. “The people here can be rather strange, but I find myself becoming rather protective of them.”

“That sounds nice.” Hel’s expression grew wistful, and Bertram couldn’t help but observe just how young she looked up close. He could also now see the dark circles under her eyes. 

“I’ve always wondered what it would be like, to live as a human.” She admitted, resting her head on her hand. “My father has told me it’s quite nice. Not having the expectations and responsibilities of a god.”

“Have you never tried living among humans?” Bertram asked. He was a little curious about her, admittedly. She was from a different pantheon, after all. Hel’s expression darkened, her lips set in a thin line. She drew back, her hands returning to her lap. 

“I’m...forbidden from doing such things.” She said. 

“Forbidden?” He echoed. Hel nodded, her hands curling into fists. 

“I’m allowed to leave my kingdom, but I cannot live among humans.” Her voice was small, resigned. “I am a child of evil, or so they say.”

“I’m sorry.” Bertram honestly wasn’t sure how to react to this. There was clearly some sort of story behind her words, a story he didn’t know and felt it would be inappropriate to ask about. 

“There’s no need for you to apologize.” Hel took a deep breath, uncurling her hands and smoothing out her dress. “I shouldn’t have brought that up. It’s a long story and I wouldn’t want to drag you into the drama of my pantheon. I’m glad you enjoy working here. You deserve to be happy.”

“Thank you?” This interaction had started out strange, become touching, and now it was back to strange again. He got the distinct feeling that Hel didn’t talk to a lot of people. Thankfully, the conversation was interrupted by Lacie’s arrival. Bertram visibly relaxed when he saw hir enter. 

“Am I interrupting something?” Lacie paused in the doorway, frowning slightly.

“No, not at all.” Bertram couldn’t help but smile upon seeing hir. “This is Hel. She’s a colleague of my uncle’s.” He fully expected Hel to introduce herself to Lacie as she had to him. Instead, Hel just stared at Lacie intently, her brows furrowed ever so slightly. Lacie stared back. 

“Is she...alright?” 

“I’m not sure. Miss Hel? Are you alright?” Bertram asked, gently shaking her shoulder. 

“Have we met before?” Hel asked, standing up. 

“Not as far as I know,” Lacie replied. Hel took a step closer, continuing to study Lacie in a manner that was rather unsettling. Lacie didn’t like things that didn’t blink. It was one of the reasons why she disliked the Bendy animatronic so much. Hel didn’t blink.

“Can I help you?” Lacie instinctively took a step back.

“You remind me very much of my father,” Hel said. She seemed to understand that she was making Lacie uncomfortable and had stopped advancing. But she was still staring. Still not blinking. 

“Is that supposed to be a good thing?” Lacie raised an eyebrow. 

“It could be.”

Lacie looked over at Bertram, a deadpan look on hir face. Bertram grimaced. 

“Anyway...” Lacie moved away from Hel a bit. “You drew up plans for a new attraction yesterday, right?” 

“I did!” Bertram began sorting through his papers. “Give me a moment. I’m not sure where I put it.” He frowned as he flipped through them. “That’s strange. I could have sworn I had it here.”

“Maybe you gave it to Joey,” Lacie suggested.

“Ah, yes, that’s probably what happened.” Bertram murmured. “I’ll go fetch it.” He left the room before Lacie could stop him. Lacie tensed a bit upon being left alone with Hel. Both of them were silent for a long time. Then Hel smiled apologetically. She had a rather nice smile. 

“I’m sorry. You must think me terribly rude.” 

“Not really,” Lacie said. “You just seem kind of weird.”

“I suppose that should be expected.” Hel extended her hand. “Let’s start over. It’s nice to meet you. My name is Hel. I’m the Norse goddess of death and a colleague of Bertram’s uncle, Hades.”

“Lacie Benton.” Lacie shook her hand. “Nice to meet you too.” She still wasn’t entirely comfortable being in the same room with Hel, but at least Hel seemed to be remembering to blink now. The fact that the woman before hir was a god didn’t really phase hir. Bertram was a demigod, his father was dating Norman. This stuff was pretty much par for the course for hir life at this point.

“Are you and Bertram friends?” Hel asked, withdrawing her hand. 

“Kind of.” Lacie fought to keep hirself from grinning. Oh, she and Bertram were so much more than friends. Hel noticed this reaction. 

“More than friends, then. Lovers perhaps?”

“So, why did you come here, exactly?” Lacie asked, quickly changing the subject. “You’re from a different pantheon, right?” 

“Well, I’d heard a lot about him from Hades,” Hel said. “And...I wanted to tell him how much I admire him for being able to defy his role and put his own happiness first. So many of us...We don’t get to be people. We have to live our lives according to a story written long before we were born.” 

“He is pretty great, isn’t he?” Lacie couldn’t help but smile. 

“He is.” Hel agreed. “And I’m glad he has someone like you to support him. You seem like a lovely person.”

“Thanks.”

“I should probably be going.” Hel glanced down at her wrist. She wasn’t wearing a watch, but there was a bracelet there, made of leather cord and with a black stone in the center. 

“It was lovely meeting you.” She continued, looking back up at Lacie. “I wish both you and Bertram the best.” Then she vanished into the floor. Lacie let out a sigh of relief she hadn’t known she’d been holding in. Hel seemed like a nice enough person, but there was something about her that just put Lacie on edge. Bertram returned a few minutes later and the two of them returned to their normal work routine. Bertram was in rather good spirits, which made Lacie happy to see. Bertram deserved that admiration. He  _was_  strong. Strong and kind and clever and Lacie loved him. She was glad she wasn’t the only one. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I did another thing. Because reasons.

[@insane-control-room](https://tmblr.co/mJlb-vW43NaJNACvfy09WfA) posted the second chapter of [{god([dess})titute]](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Farchiveofourown.org%2Fworks%2F16458287%2Fchapters%2F41902394&t=YzBiOTlkY2I5NTdhYjM4ZGYzNzAzNThiZjBiMGZkNGViZDc0ZDBlYSxvU3VhYklHdA%3D%3D&b=t%3Abf1mUcY3jG5LyWt2YecXMQ&p=http%3A%2F%2Fqueenofcats17.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F182840496970%2Fthe-comfort-of-death&m=0) and I wanted to write more with Hel and Bertram interacting. 

This was honestly really fun. Generally, when I write Hel, she’s in a position of power or putting on the “Queen of the Dead” act. 

Sidenote, the majority of this fic came from me asking Control a bunch of questions about Bertram’s reaction to certain things and ended with us kind of rping. ^^”

* * *

Bertram hadn’t really expected to see Hel again. She was the goddess of Death for an entire pantheon, so she definitely had a job to do. But he found her in his office once more, a week after her first visit. She was seated on a chair, hugging a dog to her chest. It looked as though she’d been crying. The dog appeared to be a mix between a Pomeranian and a Huskie, with a Huskie’s coloring but a Pomerian’s body shape. Its collar looked like it was made of old leather, a rune charm hanging from it. When Bertram entered, the dog immediately fixed the architect with its gaze. 

_**Child of Eros.**_  A deep voice echoed in Bertram’s mind, and he instinctively knew it was coming from the dog. 

“Don’t scare him, Garm.” Hel pressed her face into the dog’s fur. “We’re his guests.” His voice was weary and resigned. 

**_My apologies._**  The dog continued to stare at Bertram. His eyes were an unearthly red, one that was most definitely not found on normal dogs. He got the feeling that the dog did not normally look like a dog.

“I apologize for showing up unannounced yet again,” Hel said. “I promise, I’m not trying to make a habit of this.”

“There’s no need to apologize.” He assured her, putting his briefcase down on his desk. “So, what brings you here this time?” Hel drew into herself, burying her face in Garm’s fur. 

**_It has…not been a good day._**  Garm said.  ** _My mistress is feeling very emotionally vulnerable._**

“Emotionally vulnerable? Did something happen?” Immediately, Bertram’s natural inclination to ‘uncleness’ reared its head. Hel might have been an old and terrible god of death, but she was also a young woman who looked up to Bertram quite a bit. 

“…How much do you know about the death of Baldr?” Hel asked. There was a weight to the words that made Bertram distinctly uncomfortable. 

“I know…Of it.” He answered slowly. “But I wouldn’t mind if you explained it.” Hel hunched her shoulders, taking a deep shaking breath. 

**_Would you rather I told him, Mistress?_** Garm looked back at her. 

“Thank you, but I can do it.” Hel murmured. It took a moment before she finally looked up, her lips set in a thin line. 

“It’s alright if you’d rather not talk about it,” Bertram said. 

“No, I’ll do it.” She shook her head. “Baldr was killed by my father and sent to my kingdom. Literally everyone wanted me to release him. To let him go back to his family.” Her shoulders hunched once more. “They come to me every year to remind me what a selfish little ice queen I am.”

“And how do you feel about it?” Bertram asked. “Did you  _want_ to keep him with you?”

“There is an order to things.” She replied. “The dead cannot come back. There are no exceptions.” 

Bertram couldn’t help but smile, leaning his head on one of his hands. “Am I out of the order of things?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hel asked, her brow furrowing in a frown. Garm narrowed his eyes, ready to attack if Bertram insulted his mistress. 

“Is me defying my role out of the order of things?”

“That is not my business,” Hel said, her cheeks turning red. “My concern is the balance between life and death.”

“What is death in your eyes?” 

Hel’s frown deepened. She’d never been asked these kinds of questions before. There was an inherent understanding in the gods of her pantheon and her wards of what death was and what her role in it happened to be. 

“Death is when the bodies dies, whether from illness or murder or hunger or battle, and the spirit passes on to a different plane, whether that’s Helheim, Freyja’s realm, or Valhalla.” She finally replied after a moment or two.

“That means that death is not absolute,” Bertram said, smiling. “Because a different plane means the soul is still intact.” Hel continued to stare at him, visibly confused. 

**_Do not toy with her, Piedmont._**  Garm growled, although Bertram didn’t seem to notice. 

“They’re still the same person, correct?” Bertram continued. 

“I…I suppose?” Hel nodded slowly. 

“So they’re alive, just not in the world of the present.” 

“That…does make sense.” She still looked incredibly confused by this concept, but she did nod once more. 

“Therefore, there is no ‘dead’, only in a different realm.” 

“I…Yes. That does make sense.” She paused, then smiled mournfully. “That does seem to be the way everyone else viewed the situation. No wonder they considered me a selfish bitch for not allowing Baldr to return to the land of the living.” 

“Hey! That’s your choice.” Bertram said, putting his hands up. “What merit does he have to live?” 

She shrugged. “He was Odin’s favorite son. The golden boy. He never did much, but he was always kind to everyone. Perhaps that’s why my father chose him to die.” 

“Mhm. Has he wronged or righted anyone?” Bertram asked. 

“Like I said, he never did much. He was just…Nice to everyone. He’s perfect in every way.” Her voice turned bitter on the last sentence, her face twisting into a decidedly petulant and childlike look of disgust. 

“Really? How so?” Bertram folded his hands on his desk, watching her calmly.

“He’s beautiful, kind, never harmed anyone in his life.” She gestured with one hand, the other holding Garm to her chest. “Everyone loved him and the prospect of having him anywhere near an abomination like me was so abhorrent to his parents. After all, I’m a child of evil, aren’t I? I can’t possibly actually care about my wards!” She looked both furious and on the verge of tears. 

Bertram gestured to a couch in the corner of his office. “Sit down.”

She sniffled a little and moved over to sit on it, Garm still clutched in her arms. The dog had begun licking at her face, shooting warning glances back at Bertram. 

“Helheim is for the damned, isn’t it?” Bertram asked, trying to get some clarity on the situation. “Who decides where one goes?" 

"It’s not for the damned.” She looked rather offended. “It’s for everyone Freyja and Odin don’t want. I’ve gotten my fair share of criminals, yes, but the majority of my wards are those whose deaths are deemed 'dishonorable’. Dishonorable because they did not die in battle.” 

“What an odd system,” he murmured. “Who’s son is Baldr again?”

“Odin’s. His second son, but blatantly his favorite.” 

“Why did he not take him then? In his realm.”

She couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. "Things would have been much easier had that been the case. But no, Baldr did not die in battle and so his death was deemed 'dishonorable’ and he was sent to me.” 

“That’s, excuse my french, bullshit.” He grinned. “This is why we only have one place in Olympus.” He paused a moment to think. “Your charges are yours. You do a wonderful job. You are great. You must know they’ve burdened you with an awful task.” 

She watched him for a moment or two before smiling, tears in her eyes. “Thank you.” 

Her father had told her something like that once. He’d come to visit her for her birthday one year when she’d been very young. It had been shortly after her exile to Helheim and she’d been crying over the fact that she was essentially alone, deprived of her family and friends. 

_“The old man gave you a tough job, pumpkin.”_  Her father had said, pulling her into his lap.  _“But I know you can do it. You’re a brave, kind young lady and I know that you’re gonna do a great job. No matter what happens, don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise. You’re a good kid.”_

“For what?” Bertram scoffed, still smiling, “For telling the truth?" 

Hel just laughed. It felt good, just talking with Bertram like this. He treated her as if she was an ordinary person. She felt no pressure to behave a certain way or conform to any role. Her wards treated her warmly, but there was always an underlying sense of reverence to their interactions with her. She was their ruler and they never forgot that. She had a few friends among the Aesir, most notably Freyja, but the majority of them were not fond of her. Her expression soon grew solemn. 

“There’s something I need to show you.” She said, placing Garm on the ground and standing up. Bertram’s smile faded a bit. In situations involving a god’s death, red flags were generally everywhere. But he was the ultimate uncle, so he nodded for her to go on.

"I enjoy your company, and I wish us to be friends. And so I feel you must see the other reason I was shunned.” Taking a deep breath, she lifted her skirt, revealing her lower body. From the waist down, her body was that of a corpse. Not a fresh one, which might have made it better, but that of a frost-bitten mummy. 

Although her strangeness was not as prominent as her brothers’, easily covered with long skirts and tall boots, it was something she was constantly reminded of. When her emotions got out of control, the rot tended to spread, causing her to cut quite an intimidating figure when she was truly angry. Not to mention, the half of her body that was rotting tended to change in situations where she was interacting with people who had a certain image of her. 

She fully expected Bertram to recoil in horror, scream, or at least by put off by her corpse lower body. Instead, Bertram laughed, but it wasn’t cruel. 

“What a stupid reason! Your legs are legacies of strength! Not of something to be shunned!" 

She stared at him, genuinely surprised he didn’t immediately thing she was disgusting. "The…The corpse thing. That’s not…You’re not…" 

**_You are not repulsed?_**  Garm tilted his head to the side. 

"Of course I’m not repulsed!” He said. “My dear nephew, my Johan, he has polio. Its similar to what you have, though invisible. It’s nothing to be repulsed by.” 

“Hm.” She dropped her skirt. “Interesting.” Then she perked up a bit. “Johan? Johan Ramirez?" 

“Yes.” Bertram was definitely a little nervous about Hel’s knowledge of Johan’s name. Still, he remained calm about it. 

"Oh! I’ve heard about him!” She clapped her hands together. “One of my wards met a little boy who spoke of him." 

**_They spoke highly of him._** Garm agreed. 

"He’s…” Bertrum smiled wistfully and nodded. “Good.” 

“He certainly seems like a lovely man.” She nodded as well. “And you obviously care a great deal about him.” 

“Of course I do,” Bertrum smiled. “He’s family. You could be family, too.“ 

"Very funny.” She immediately replied, rolling her eyes. 

“I’m honest.” 

Hel’s eyes widened and her head whipped around so that she could see his face. He did look genuine. She couldn’t see any trace in his expression that he was trying to pull one over on her. 

“You…You are?” Her voice was quiet and unsure. 

“Of course. As someone who’s lied to himself for a very long time, I’ve come to terms that lying doesn’t work. I’m honest when I say you could be family too.” He smiled gently. 

She just stared at him, her expression blank. Then the floodgates seemed to open and she started to openly sob. She looked so young in that moment, so small and vulnerable. Bertram pulled her close with his wings and just hugged her. 

.

When Lacie showed up to work that day, Bertram proudly presented hir with Hel. 

“This is our daughter now!” He proclaimed proudly. He held Hel up, holding her under her arms. 

Hel waved sheepishly. “Hello again.”

**_Greetings, mortal._ **

Lacie’s attention was drawn down to a small dog by Bertram’s feet that absolutely did not feel like a dog. Something had obviously happened this morning. Oh well, their lives were weird enough. 

“So, we have a kid now?” Lacie laughed and shook hir head. “Well, alright.” She could tell Bertram wasn’t about to be talked out of this. Might as well go along with it. 


End file.
